Murder at Hogwarts
by WolfWinks
Summary: Neville Longbottom, Headmaster at Hogwarts, is woken by the castle herself crying out in pain. Harry Potter can't understand what he is seeing and he's not sure he wants to. Ron Weasley knows that being called to Hogwarts so early in the morning couldn't be a good sign. No one at Hogwarts expected the events that followed.
Okay, first chapter (because it was becoming too long) of a short crime story. Warnings for violence, death, teenagers breaking rules, enraged parents, enraged children, abuse, death of a child etc. Anything you might see on a crime show, you might read here. Let me know how I did, please.

* * *

The school was silent, the corridors empty. There were no students around, no teachers. The paintings were asleep as were the suits of armour. The whole castle was asleep, except two.

"You don't have to do this," a voice whispered. It was a soft voice, male but it was weak, small and terrified.

"I can't let you go," another voice said, also male. The voices were nothing alike. Where the first was weak, this one was strong, cold, unemotional. The toneless response seemed to scare the first voice more.

"Please, I won't tell, I won't!" The first voice became shrill, desperate.

"I can't take that risk."

There was a thump, a pained whimper and then a sudden scream that pierced the halls. The portraits woke up, the nearby suits of armour went running and the school herself seemed to tremble in pain.

The headmaster woke with a loud gasp, pulled from his sleep by the castle's pain.

"Headmaster Longbottom!"

"Neville Longbottom!"

"Sir!"

"Quick!"

"You must come now!"

Neville threw himself out of bed and summoned his robe as he rushed out the door. He raced down the corridors, passing the suits of armour surrounding his office and running through Sir Nicholas. He ran without registering what he was running towards but every crying or screaming painting he passed, his feeling of dread became worse.

It was barely a minute since he awoke, that he found himself in the previously empty corridor. It wasn't empty anymore.

There were teachers everywhere; any who hadn't arrived were not far behind Neville himself. Neville spotted the new Herbology professor, hired when Professor Sprout retired last year, shaking in the arms of his godfather, the defence against the dark arts professor. Neville made his way over there, seeing as Harry seemed to be the only one that was composed enough to speak.

"Neville, you're here." Harry sounded relieved and upset but he didn't look away from the room.

Neville took in a deep breath and looked around again at the teachers. Professor Parkinson, transfiguration teacher, staring down the wall with an unbreakable mask, Professor Jordon, Potions professor, mumbling to himself with wide eyes, Professor Abbott, Ancient Runes professor, wailing in the corner. He turned back to Harry with sad eyes; he could guess what happened, no matter how much he wanted to be wrong. "What's happened?"

Harry looked at him, devastation in his eyes. Neville was surprised to see slight red rimmed eyes sunken into a pale face. "A student, murdered."

Neville closed his eyes, sad that he was right. "Who?" Neville couldn't imagine any of the students being killed, none. He knew every single student's name, parents and their best class. He couldn't bear to think of any of them dead let alone murdered.

Harry looked back into the room, hugging Teddy tighter. "Lorcan Scamander," he whispered eventually.

Neville's eyes widened, _Luna's son?_ "Are you-"

"Yes, I'm sure." Harry paused and swallowed. He seemed to be working up to what needed to be said. "His-" Harry cleared his throat and looked back to Neville. "His face was the only part of his body undamaged."

Teddy let out a chocked sob, burring closer to Harry who tightened his arms again. "Shh, Teddy. Shh," he whispered, rubbing a hand slowly up and down his back.

Neville closed his eyes, horrified. Lorcan was only a second year, he was so young. "Okay." Neville took another deep breath. "Okay," Neville said, opening his eyes and taking charge like he needed to. "Teddy," Neville placed a hand over the devastated professor's shoulder, "can you please take all the teachers to the great hall. Ask the Heads of Houses to collect the students and bring them there as well."

Teddy nodded, wiped his eyes and started to move away.

"Oh, Teddy?"

The young man turned slowly, staring with blank eyes.

"Could you please collect the Gryffindor students and take them to the great hall, I need Harry here."

Teddy nodded and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his face was a mask of the perfect, unaffected professor. He looked like his godfather.

"Okay teachers, here's what's going to happen."

Neville tuned out Teddy's voice and turned back to Harry. "Can you investigate this? You're still an active auror, even if you're teaching."

"Yes," Harry cleared his voice again to remove the roughness, "I can investigate. I'll call Ron, he'll help."

Neville nodded, he wanted to keep everything private. He would, of course, let parents know and invite them to come to the castle but he could not allow anyone to leave; they could be letting the killer out.

"Neville," Harry said, his voice strained.

Neville turned to his friend and realised just how much this was affecting him. Neville placed a hand over his arm and squeezed. "I know," Neville said, bowing his head in grief.

Harry let out a small sob, his muscles slumping. They stayed that way for a minute, just taking in the shock. After a moment, Neville straightened and pulled Harry up, forcing him to focus.

"Start the investigation, I'll contact Ron." Neville turned, not waiting for a response and retreating to his office. He didn't even notice Harry's eyes following him, too absorbed in his thoughts of informing the family.

* * *

Harry didn't want to enter the room, not at all; the first time was enough of a look. It didn't matter what he wanted, though. He had a duty to perform and a child's murderer to be caught; he would not let this child down.

Entering the room was like entering a slaughter house. There was blood everywhere; on the walls, the floor and the roof. The broken furniture that littered around the room was also splattered with blood and the single painting that was stored here was empty and torn. In the middle of it was the small body.

Lorc- no, the victim's limbs were spread eagle, his head facing the door. There was a pile of rages which, on closer inspection, were discovered to be the victim's clothes, a short distance away and his wand lay broken into four pieces against one wall. Scattered around the room was several large gold gallons, at least twenty five of them, none of them were touching the body.

The victim's body was littered with cuts and abrasions. Most were shallow, deep enough to hurt but not to fatally wound. His abdomen was one giant bruise. His ribs looked to be crushed inside his chest and his right arm was broken in at least three spots. None of these injuries were life-threatening; rather, it was the large slashes down both wrists and across his neck. The victim's arms were soaked in blood and his head was almost completely cut off.

The most startling observation (and, considering what's been observed so far, that's saying something) was the fact that the face was left completely clean. Completely; there wasn't a spot of blood, sweat or tears left on his face. There wasn't a single bruise or cut. It was completely clean. Also, his eyes were closed, his face was peaceful. Looking just at the face, the child looked to be asleep.

Footsteps from outside started Harry out of his thoughts and he turned his body to the door, wand raised, just in case.

"Harry?"

Harry relaxed instantly at his best friend's voice. "Yeah, Ron. Come in but... just... It's bad."

The door opened slowly and Ron's red hair came around the doorway. He entered the door and shut it behind him before looking up.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed out.

Harry almost smiled at the familiar phrase, almost. "Yeah," Harry whispered.

Ron cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a moment. Harry let him, knowing the need to absorb the shock and build up the professional mask again. Once Ron was ready he turned to face Harry. "Where do we start?"

Harry turned back to the room and took a deep breath. "Honestly, I'm not sure."

* * *

Neville walked to the great hall with sad eyes. He just contacted Luna and Rolf Scamander and they were waiting in his office for their other son. It was hard explaining to the parents that one of their own had been brutally murdered. They were unsurprisingly devastated, Luna threw up and Rolf just stared in shock. It was heartbreaking and Neville was not surprised when he found himself crying along with the parents. Now he needed to find the other son, bring him to his parents and, somehow, explain that his twin brother was gone forever.

"Headmaster!"

Neville turned to the voice, seeing fifth year Gryffindor prefect Lily Luna Potter running towards him. Neville frowned when he saw her alone.

"Lily, what are you doing? Where's Professor Lupin?"

"Professor Lupin?" Lily looked confused and suddenly concerned.

Neville frowned, "didn't he come to your common room?"

"What? No? Well, I mean, he might have but I haven't been in the common room for a while now."

 _Ah, that explains it._ Neville raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Why, exactly, is that?"

Lily didn't look down, she didn't look guilty; she looked defiant and determined. "I've been looking for dad but he wasn't in his room."

"Why were you looking for _Professor Potter_?" Neville asked, putting emphasis on Harry's title while working.

Lily rolled her eyes but didn't complain. "A second year came to talk to me, his friend was missing and-" here she paused, shifting her feet, "there was blood on his sheets."

"What?" Neville turned to the girl with wide eyes. "Which child? Who's missing?"

Lily locked her eyes with his. "Lysander Scamander."

Neville actually staggered back in shock. Lysander was missing; missing on the same night his brother is killed. What on earth was going on? "Thank you for informing me, Lily. Come with me, I'll drop you off at the great hall before informing the teachers.

"Why are we going to the great hall?" Lily asked, not commenting on the escort just yet.

"All students have been taken to the great hall," Neville said without elaborating.

Lily stared at him, waiting for an explanation. When she didn't receive one she huffed in annoyance. "Fine, don't tell me. I can walk on my own."

Lily walked ahead of Neville whose lips tilted up in amusement as he caught up with her. "Nope, you can't. Not tonight." Neville lost all amusement, no matter how minor, as he was reminded of the horrible events earlier.

"Why?" Lily was staring determinedly ahead of her, her shoulders relaxed and casual; she look completely disinterested in the conversation, that is, except for her eyes which kept flickering to Neville's face.

 _Sometimes I think she should have been a Slytherin rather than a Gryffindor,_ Neville thought. "I can't tell you that, not yet."

Lily looked up at that point, confused to hear the sadness, no, the devastation in her Headmaster's voice. More importantly, Neville was basically family; she didn't like hearing her family sad. Lily stayed silent but she linked her hand with Neville's, squeezing it tightly.

Neville glanced down at the girl, touched by the gesture. He squeezed back and their walk to the great hall was done in silence.

* * *

The room was silent while the pair worked. They collected evidence and wrote down everything they saw. The silence was only penetrated by their careful footsteps and shuffling objects. It was hard looking at this body. It was so small, so young and so innocent. It was almost more painful seeing his peaceful, clean face.

"He's showing remorse."

Harry looked up, started. "What was that?"

"The face, he cleaned it. There is no way there would be no blood on the face with the way the chi- victim died."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and came towards Ron. "You're right. With the amount of blood splatter there was no way to avoid it landing on his face and even then, the victim would have been scared and in pain. The victim was beaten before hand and a beaten c-child is a child that sweats and cries."

"Exactly but why?" Ron was leaning close to the victim's face, paying close attention to his eyes, or, more specifically, his closed eyelids.

"Why would a person that viciously murdered a little boy suddenly feel remorse?" Harry peered close to Ron, hoping to see what he could, but Ron pulled back suddenly, a large smile on his face.

"They're there!"

"What is?"

Ron turned to look at him, smiling like a maniac, especially surrounded by blood. "Fingerprints."

Harry's eyes widened and he started to grin as well. "It won't help us if the assailant used a physical disguise, something like polyjuice but it's a lead."

"How many people can actually make that potion though?"

Ron opened his mouth, finger poised to make his point more powerful but Harry didn't let him speak.

"Besides Hermione; she doesn't count."

Ron closed his mouth with a pout.

"Seriously Ron, a lot of adults struggle to make it correctly. If he was using polyjuice then it only narrows down the field more."

"And if not, we have his fingerprints."

Harry smiled, glad to have some evidence that could lead them right to the killer; he could see his feelings reflected in his partner's face. That was when a Patronus entered the room.

" _Harry, Ron, please come to the great hall. It's time to inform the students."_

Harry's grin fell, along with his partner's and they turned to each other with sad expressions.

"Take an imprint of the fingerprints, just in case. I'll start heading out, catch up with me." Harry waited for Ron's nod before leaving the room, heading to the great hall.

 _How did this happen? Why did this happen? The war is over; the world has been at peace. Why was a student attacked so late at night in the one place away from home they should feel safe?_

A thump from behind him had Harry wiping his wand out and pointed at a small door in an instance. He heard Ron's footsteps approaching so he felt safe enough throwing the door wide open. The sight he received was not one he ever wanted to see.

"Professor Potter!"

"Uncle Harry!"

Harry paled, turning away from the sight in an instant. He never ever ever wanted to see his niece half naked ever again, ever; especially with an older boy. Harry clenched his eyes shut and wished away the memory of the pair making out.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

If possible Harry paled even more, _this was not going to go over well._

"Dad!" The girl behind him, Rose Weasley, squeaked out.

Harry opened his eyes to glance at his best friend and saw the man staring in shock at the children behind him, his face as white as a ghost. Unfortunately that colour didn't last very long and his face starts to turn red.

"Rose Weasley, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?!"

Harry flinched at his friends enraged yell, he couldn't imagine what it was doing to the children it was directed at.

"W-what are you doing here, d-dad?"

Harry winced in sympathy when he saw her terrified expression, her face as bright as her dads but for a completely different reason.

Ron stormed over to the pair and stood directly in front of them. He looked directly into his daughters eyes and spoke softly and slowly. "Who is he?"

Rose hesitated and her partner, a student Harry knew to be Beryl Nott, looked ready to faint. Thankfully, for the pair at least, the great hall door opened behind them. _I didn't even realise how close I was._

"Harry, Ron, what are you doing, come one. We're still missing a couple of students but..." Neville trailed off when he saw Rose Weasley clutching her shirt close to her chest, covering herself, Beryl Nott swaying side to side, an embarrassed and horrified Harry and an enraged Ron. It didn't take him very long to figure out what happened.

"W-well, no t-time for this n-now," Neville stuttered, his face now also matching the Weasley's. "Miss. Weasley, get dressed, Professor Potter will wait with you. Mr. Nott and Auror Weasley, please follow me.

"Nott!"

"Auror?"

Their voices blended together and Harry struggled to hide a smile. One loud, the other soft but both completely horrified. The Headmaster took the shell-shocked pair into the great Hall and Harry kept his back turned from the plenty embarrassed seventh year.

"Sorry Uncle Harry," Rose whispered from behind him.

"Are you ready to go?"

Rose appeared in front of him, dressed and blushing and he nodded. "Okay, well, as your teacher I am assigning you a detention for breaking the rules."

"And as my uncle?"

Harry paused before opening the doors. "I can't decide whether I should be proud for horrifying your dad or horrified myself so I'm just not going to answer."

Rose nodded; a small, knowing smile on her face.

Harry just rolled his eyes at her. "Tell your boy toy he has two detentions."

"Two," Rose asked.

"Yes, two. He was making out with my niece after all."

Rose glared but he could see her smile hidden away.

"Come on, in we go." Harry opened the doors and the pair entered the room. Rose headed towards her friends in Ravenclaw while Harry approached the staff table. He pulled his professor mask on, hiding all the emotions, good and bad, behind it.

"Okay," Neville said once Harry was settled, "now that we are all here we can get started."

"We're not all here, Headmaster!"

All the staff and students turned towards the voice. The student, a second year, seemed to cower under the attention.

"If you are talking about Lorcan and Lysander Scamander then I am aware of their absence."

Murmurs erupted around the room but Neville didn't allow them for long. He raised a hand, halting all sound.

"A discovery was made late last night," Neville said after realising the time was after six in the morning. "A student was found in one of the classrooms on this floor attacked. The students didn't survive his injuries. The student in question was Lorcan Scamander."

Murmurs broke out again but Neville let the children talk. He heard a few sobs, a few horrified denials. He let it all happen for a moment, letting the information sink in before holding his hand up for silence again.

"I know this is a shock and a tragedy but I ask for all students to remain calm, rational and supportive. His parents have been notified and you may see them around the halls. Please, leave them in peace, they are grieving."

"What about Lysander?"

Neville turned to the Gryffindor side, recognising third year Ed Clearwater. "We do not know what has happened to Lysander Scamander and finding him has become out top priority." Neville ignored the looks he was receiving from most of the teachers, having not told them that piece of information yet.

"For the foreseeable future, all students will remain in the great hall. If you need to leave for whatever reason, which you shouldn't, you will be escorted by a teacher and you will be in a group. Teachers will also remain here and will not leave without informing another teacher of their destination. Only Professor Potter, Auror Weasley and myself are exceptions to this rule as we will be investigating."

Neville paused to let that news settle in. No one complained, a fact he was grateful for at this time.

"Now, could we please have one minute of silence for our fallen student. Let him rest in peace."

Neville waved his wand, floating all the candles around the room and distributing them evenly around the room. He then collected his own candle and bowed his head looking at the small flame. He heard rather than saw everyone else doing the same and together they grieved for the small child who should still be with them.

* * *

Harry walked away from the great hall, Neville and Ron following him. Once they were far enough away from the great hall, Harry turned to face Neville.

"You think the murderer is still here," Harry asked, causing Ron's head to snap towards Neville, surprised.

"Yes, I know no one left the school grounds at all last night; I would have felt it if they did and I would have awoken sooner."

Harry started to pace. "Do you think the students are in danger?"

"Not if they follow the rules. This person, whoever it is, it ruthless. There are deadly and a real threat to everyone in this castle. He will not hesitate to harm anyone, I don't think."

Harry continued to pace, looking thoughtful. "I agree," Harry said after a while.

"So do I. The wounds suggest anger but cleaning the face and avoiding it through the beating suggests remorse. If I had to make a guess, I would say the attacker became enraged and beat the child. I'm not sure why but when he realised what he did, he freaked. The slashes, they are the only wounds inflicted with magic. I think he killed Lorcan so that he couldn't talk about the beating."

Neville nodded along to Ron's words. "This is why we must stay on the defensive; any offensive action could cause the criminal to lash out and hurt another. We cannot let that happen."

Both Harry and Ron nodded, agreeing completely.

"What about Lorcan's brother, Lysander?"

Neville looked down sadly. "Yes, Lily was woken by one of Lysander's friends, saying he was missing. She left the room to find you. Of course, by that time you were at the crime scene along with all the other students. I found her wandering around looking for you."

Harry paled when he heard about his daughter wandering around alone with a killer on the loose. "W-was there anything else?"

"There was blood on the sheets."

"Merlin," Ron said, leaning up against the wall.

Harry stared in silence, _what on earth was going on?_

* * *

Harry and Ron entered the Gryffindor, second-year dorm. The beds were a mess and there were pyjamas scattered everywhere, a sign of the early morning wake up. The pair looked around the room, checking for anything out of place (a hard thing to do in a boy's dorm room).

"There's a trunk missing," Ron said from one side of the room.

"You think our guy stole it?"

Ro shrugged. "Why though, what does a second year have worth stealing.

Harry shrugged, mimicking Ron's earlier move.

"Who knows," Harry said, approaching the third bed in the room.

"This one must be Lysander," Harry called to Ron. "There's blood in the centre."

Ron came over and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the small amount. "It doesn't look like he was injured too badly. That's a relief."

"Yeah," Harry said absently. He was focusing on the blood, or rather, the shape and position. "It's an injection spill."

"What?"

Harry turned to face Ron. "Do you remember when Albus was really sick; so sick he needed to receive an injection twice a day for two weeks?"

Ron nodded.

"One time I pulled out the needle but I was distracted. I forgot to plug up the wound to stop its bleeding. His arms bled slight, enough to stain the sheets just like they're stained here."

"So, you're saying Lysander Scamander was injected with something?"

"Not just anything, the blood is thin and not quite the right colour." After seeing all the blood from the last crime scene Harry thought he held a good knowledge of the colour.

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, "it's too light, closer to pink. It could just be that the kidnapper tried to wash it but I don't think so. I think Lysander was injected with Erroris."

Ron's eyes widened, "the potion of delusion?"

"Yeah, it thins the blood, creating this colour when the person bleeds."

"That potion is illegal. It's addictive and many witches and wizards use it as a hallucinogenic drug, it's affects on children though..." Ron trailed off, staring at the blood stain in a new light. He almost wished it was a larger stain; it might just be better.

"Lysander would have been completely paralysed but experiencing his worst nightmares in his sleep. He wouldn't be able to escape until the drug wore off, usually at least an hour, if he was given the smallest dose."

How could our guy get his hands on some, it's extremely hard to find and doesn't last long after being brewed?"

"Maybe he made it?"

The room was silent as the pair absorbed what they learned. "We have to find that kid," Ron said after a moment.

"Yeah, we really do."

* * *

Neville walked towards his office slowly. He wasn't looking forward to sharing more bad news with the already grieving parents. It was too much too soon; it wasn't right. Neville arrived at his office door, absently noticing the suits of armour that were yet to leave their position. _I really need to figure out what they're doing,_ Neville thought while entering his office.

"Luna, Rolf," Neville said, sitting down.

"Neville, where is Lysander?" Luna asked.

Neville winced at hearing her weak, gravelly voice and then again at her question. "I-" Neville was interrupted by the ground moving. Luna, who was sitting on the edge of her seat, was thrown backwards into it and the chair tipped backwards. Rolf was thrown into a nearby wall, having been standing and Neville was thrown to the ground from his own chair.

"What on ear-" Neville was interrupted again, this time by a ear-piercing, blood-curling scream.

Luna jumped from the ground and raced out, the men not far behind; whoever was causing that scream needed help.

* * *

Harry was waving his wand over the sheets, making sure he was correct in his guesses. So far, he was. Ron was next to him, printing the copied imprint of the fingerprint onto a spare piece of parchment. It was time to analyse it.

"I was correct," Harry said once he finished the spells. "The blood has been contaminated with Erroris and it's definitely Lysander's blood."

When Harry didn't receive a response he turned to face his friend.

Ron was staring down at his own results, his face a picture of shock and horror (an expression Harry was starting to become all to familiar with).

"What is it?"

Ron looked up and shook his head. "I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?"

Ron turned the parchment around so it was facing Harry.

Looking down, Harry saw a name he never expected. "Are you sure?"

Ron nodded. "I triple checked, the finger prints found on the body are Lysander's."

At that moment the castle let out a loud groan and the ground shook. Ron knocked his head on the table and Harry was flipped over the bed, landing on the floor on the other side.

"You okay?" Ron called once the ground stilled.

"Yeah, yo-"

An almightily scream interrupted Harry, sending both trainedaurors to their feet. They were out the door before they registered what was happening.

* * *

Harry and Ron arrived at the scene the same moment the headmaster, along with the grieving parents did. Harry gestured for Teddy and Pansy Parkinson to hold the parents back as Neville, Ron and himself approached the circle of teachers. Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, the students at the entrance to the great hall, some crying, some shaking their heads and some staring in shock. Obviously, they saw whatever happened.

A path was created through the teachers and Harry, as the first in line, halted in his movements in shock.

"He's going to kill me!" The oy in front of him screamed. "He's going to kill me."

The boy rocked back and forth, knocking his head against the wall behind him, his arm raised and making a stabbing motion with his hand; his hand that was holding a pocket knife.

Harry made eye contact with the distraught child and his body became tense when he registered the wild look in his eyes. The child let out a ferrel scream and launched himself at Harry, knife raised.

Harry let out a surprised yelp, stumbling back. The knife managed to nick his leg but by that stage Neville and Ron had reacted, Neville holding the screaming child and Ron collecting the knife that fell from his hands.

"No! Let me go!"

Harry watched as the boy locked eyes with him again and his struggles started anew. "Let me go! Please, I don't want to die! He'll murder me,, just like he did my brother!"

Harry let a tear slip down his cheek at the sight of the small injured boy. "Don't worry Lysander," Harry said softly, "we won't let anyone hurt you. Not anymore."

* * *

(w.c 4,867)

WolfWinks –xx-


End file.
